Prophesy Children
by Souless-Wonders
Summary: A stick turns blue for a member of the crew, and of BTVS respectively. Just how is this possible? Not B/A!! We *hate*B/A! If we ever write, B/A, it's gonna have a bad ending. C/A
1. Tequila plus vampire? winces

Angel placed the last pen in the pot carefully, and stood back. The desk Wesley had assigned him was as tidy as when he had first sat down at it, and heard Wesley slide the doors to his own office closed, the familiar sound making him growl with annoyance. He stepped back, and looked at the objects that had accumulated on the desk. A stake. So Cordy could 'murder you if you even *think* of going psycho on us', she had told him. Paper. Lots. And the cute little mug Cordy had stuffed all those pens in. No photos, or objects to inspire memories. Just the bare essentials. Like Angel.  
  
He stepped back, and put his coat on, the coat that was a signature of him, and the darkness that clung tantalisingly close. He knew that the essence of what he was fighting recognised evil, and shrank in fear. It was a good coat.  
  
He shoved a stake in his pocket, and strode toward the exit. After a moment fighting with his weakness, he gave in, and turned to survey the different personalities of his staff...ex staff, he berated himself, on each desk. He turned, satisfied, and walked straight into Cordelia who clutched a crossbow, one finely plucked eyebrow arched.  
  
'Where do you think you're going?' she demanded. Angel gestured to the doorway. 'Oh hell no buster, the only way you're getting out of that doorway is with your dusty cremated body floating in the air to the cheesy version of Candle in the wind!' she yelled. Angel winced. 'Cordelia, Wesley has control. You guys were doing fine without me. Carry on. I don't belong here,' he said, as a way of explanation. Her eyes narrowed, and she aimed the crossbow. 'So what? You've decided that yet again big vampy Angel walks alone, a law unto himself? He doesn't like actually bushing up against reality and humans because he might just give in? Well boo hoo!' she said sharply, surprising him. 'You don't give in. We *trusted* you Angel, you were the one who brought us together. The only connection we all have in common. Wesley and I would never have gotten to be friends if it wasn't for you. You don't walk out on that, and I will stake you myself if you attempt to. We lost you once, I don't intend to let you walk out that door anytime soon!'  
  
Angel turned and walked away, to the bottom of the staircase. Then he whipped around and brushed the crossbow out of her hands, his riged forehead and fangs flashing in her viewpoint for a second. He moved so quickly, the bow was gone before she realised he was there. He was at the bottom of the staircase when she moved, calling over his shoulder, 'what was that about trust?'  
  
********************************  
  
Sunnydale, 2002.  
  
Buffy stood with her back pressed against the tree, feeling the gnarled old wood support her, as she resisted the urge to race into Spike's crypt, and lose herself yet again in a moment of feeling.  
  
Why was she fighting the urge? Why did she keep denying herself what her body so clearly craved? Because she was a sucker for punishment- That's WHY. She had a man....pire wrapped around her little finger, so hopelessly in love with her that he would allow her to beat him, scorn him, neglect him and abuse him just to spend a millisecond in time with her. But she was naive and vain, and would rather punish herself than admit she wanted, or needed him.  
  
She would take him for granted and she thought he's always dote on her. But then, hadn't she thought the same about Angel? Yeah. And just look at how that turned out. The last she'd heard of him was that he was busy fighting the good fight in LA. With CORDELIA nonetheless. The thought made Buffy sulk. It just wasn't fair. He should be here, with her, and instead he was off....doing whatever it was he did....with a whole troupe of new people. His new friends. His new family. Meanwhile, she had no one. Even Giles had run out on her.  
  
Exhaling deeply, the slayer pushed herself from the tree and trudged towards her home. Tonight she would feel nothing but alone.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Spike lay flat on the tomb, like the corpse he had been over 100 years ago. He could smell her. The simple knowledge that her smell still pervaded the darkness of his crypt had left him with a dull ache where his heart beat a long time hence. He hurt.  
  
He had heard her earlier, stop outside the crypt, awaited her falling into him again, and welcoming her with open arms and accepting the bruises that were his trophies from an encounter with the Slayer. But her pride had stopped her. The pride that placed her above him, the pride that was born of the Council's black and white, evil and good. He thought Buffy had learnt to read the shades of grey. But her falter had been controlled, and the Slayer had run. Not far off, she had to learn to deal, as he was, with the pain of a body that wanted, craved the comfort of another, and the beatings that excited it. But she had fled from him.  
  
Angrily he sat up. He was in limbo, he was no longer accepted by the ranks of darkness, and was openly laughed at by those who were comrades in the war against the light, since the day he had ripped out his heart and given it to the slayer. 'Spike, I don't.. I don't love you. And it's tearing me apart, being with you, but hating you. I can't.. I can't keep doing this. You're...' she had paused. Turned back with the look of pity that crossed every woman's face when she loosed the ties of love that bound her to a man's fantasies. The look h had been given the night of his death. Sick dread filled his stomach. 'You're beneath me,' she'd said sadly, and walked away, into the darkness. He had been broken, torn from his vampiric self that kept all emotions except those linked with violence away, and been mocked by those who could still claim demonic Hyde to their Jekyll.  
  
And yet, he still wanted her. Yearned for her with every fibre of his being. And it was driving him crazy. He was THE BIG BAD. She was the VAMPIRE LAYER...er...SLAYER. It wasn't natural. It was wrong. He knew that they weren't supposed to be together. He'd seen the effects way back when Angelus had been with her. But he couldn't help it.  
  
The poet within him, thought long ago dead, mused. It was just as Shakespeare had written. 'Love and Reason hold little company together.' Love was unreasonable, this he had learnt the hardest way possible.  
  
Forcing the mopey thoughts away, Spike growled and leapt from the tomb. He wasn't going to let this....THING for the slayer hold him back. After all, he was the BIG BAD. Spike. William the Bloody. Not some stupid blonde bint's lap dog.  
  
He took large, determined strides to his crypt door and reached for his duster. Shrugging it on, he realised that this was going to be the turning point of his unlife. Not that he really knew why or how it would be, but he had to do something....anything to rid himself of the torture she'd put him through.  
  
With that in mind, Spike waltzed out of the crypt and disappeared into the darkness of the night.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Anya sat in front of the television, flashing images of the wedding going by blurred by the unfallen tears in her eyes. She watched as she rushed around, beaming with smiles, her relatives and friends congratulating her, and the beautiful dress swirling behind her. All gone. Xander was for a second on screen, then disappeared. Anya blinked back a sob.  
  
Then anger, hot and red flooded over her. She was not going to sit here, like some of the pathetic mortals, limp and weak, not responding to the opportunity to curse their once loved ones. She would show Xander Harris! She picked up a tissue, and looked angrily at the soft pastel colours, then methodically tore it into strips.  
  
An hour later, Anya left her apartment, looking a little like someone that the Scoobies remembered for her dangerous liaisons. A little bit of Faith was back.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Spike strolled into the Bronze, running his hand along the bar. Here he'd sat, moping about Dru, and to moan about the annoying Harmony. Here he'd sat the first day that Buffy had walked away without satisfying what lurked beneath the innocent exterior, shell shocked, and burning with embarrassment. Now he hopped up on the stool with a devil may care expression, prepared to let the world have its way with him. He was free, immortal, and a damn sight better looking than most.  
  
He gazed around the room, not sure exactly what it was he was looking for yet. Then *she* caught his eye. Was that really her? Sizing her up, he realised that it was. Sure, her blonde tresses were unusually curled, and she wore COMPLETELY uncharacteristic black leather on black leather ensemble.... But it was really her. And, as much as he really didn't want to admit it, she looked gorgeous. Wait a tic, was it wrong of him to think of her like that? OF course it was! Especially seeing as it was her kind he was trying to avoid. And yet, even through her tough girl exterior, he saw the glimmer of pain in her eyes. It was similar to his own. Wanting that which she really shouldn't. And for this reason, Spike couldn't help the yearning to walk up and talk to her.  
  
Urgh! What was his problem? Here he was trying to avoid ANYTHING that would remind him even remotely of the slayer and *she* turns up.  
  
"Well screw that!" He muttered aloud, pushing himself away from the bar. He turned to make his way from the club unnoticed. After all, he was the soddin' big bad and the slayer and her pals could just go and f-  
  
"Spike?"  
  
Her voice cut him from his thoughts and he spun to confront her. "Anya."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy studied herself in the mirror carefully. The short blond hair was curled slightly, and she wore a tiny red top, and a pair of her favourite jeans. She nodded.  
  
'No black. Definitely a good sign.' She turned to walk out the room, then dashed back, to slick another layer of lip-gloss on. Who knows who will be there? She told herself to ward off any unwanted conversations with the little voice inside of her head turning cartwheels at the thought of Spike.  
  
****************  
  
'Spike.' Anya gave him an appraising look. Tight jeans. Buffy had dropped him, or she would be being shadowed right around now.  
  
'So what are you doing without the whelp, luv?' Spike asked, a smirk quirking his lips. He'd seen her checking out his ass.  
  
'The whelp should be burning in hell right around now, if Hallie wasn't on vacation. Ya wanna take his place?' Anya demanded crossly.  
  
'And a large helping of PMS from the lady,' Spike said, holding up his hands. 'I didn't come to hit on you. I came to..' he scratched his head. 'T o hit on people who are not you,' he admitted, an apologetic sheepish smile she had never seen before making his eyes shine. Damn he was fine!  
  
'Not PMS. Annoyed. If De'hoffryn hadn't got me into this whole stupid mess then I wouldn't be here,' Anya said angrily, trying not to cry. Spike slid into the chair next to her.  
  
'Here doin' what, pet?' he asked gently. He had experience with crying women.  
  
'Trying to get over Xander,' she admitted, a tear trickling down one cheek. Spike wiped it away softly, and she stared at him. He pulled back quickly.  
  
'So why are you here? Don't give me the Buffalo wings story, I know that you prefer the Fishtank's,' she said sternly, referring to the sleazy dive Faith had frequented.  
  
'Trying to move on,' he replied. She raised one eyebrow, and he blustered, ' this dumb bird left. Miss the shagging.'  
  
'Spike, when will you realise that your pathetic crush on Buffy was seen by everyone? And the waves o sex coming off you and her was appalling after you'd been patrolling,' she said, air quoting the word patrolling. Spike stared at her.  
  
'You knew?' She nodded.  
  
'So you realised that the dumb bitch would tear me up, spit me out, and you didn't *tell* me? Bloody hell, that girl's a man eater, what did you think she'd do with a man...pire! She's a slayer, for pete's sake!' He sat hunched over. Anya put a hand on his back, an oddly motherly motion, averse with the extreme leather corset that seemed to put everything on display.  
  
Spike sat up. 'Drink okay with you?' he asked briskly. Anya nodded.  
  
**************  
  
Half an hour later: Spike slammed the tequila glass down and lined it up.  
  
'So I can't decide what I'm going to do to him. I mean, it was our wedding! I told him ages before that he could stop, and if he really wanted to he could have told me, but to embarrass e in front of everyone,' Anya broke off.  
  
Spike leaned in, and cupped her face in his hands.  
  
'What are you doing?' she whispered.  
  
'Movin' on,' he replied, as he kissed her.  
  
****************  
  
Buffy strolled into the club, and scanned the room automatically for Spike. Her stomach dropped. He was spread out in a corner, his leather duster marking him out as bright as a beacon for her to see, making out with another girl as trussed up in leather as he. Her blonde hair was mussed, and curled, and the two were so engrossed in what they were doing, she doubted he remembered she existed. So much for undying love.  
  
The Slayer, warrior of the light, fled from her ex lover with tears streaming down her face.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Meanwhile, in LA, Angel was losing his mind. He'd come back after a night on the town, drinking it up, only to be lunged at by his 'friends'. When would they realise that even though he loved them and cared about them and all that crap, he needed them to give him his space because otherwise he was bound to go insane and fire them again? (Not to mention sleeping with a painful reminder from his past....Of course, Cordelia could never know that.)Plus, he had a hangover (which meant he'd REALLY REALLY had a lot to drink) and Cordelia's constant nagging was starting to get on his nerves.  
  
He knew she meant well, he really did, but right now he didn't really care. "Cordelia...." He mumbled for the tenth time. "Please....I'm not losing my mind again....I just needed time to think...." He was starting to sober up due to the supernatural vamp healing he had going.  
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you don't mean you needed to drink?" She tossed back angrily, sizing him up with her usual glare. She paused and seemed to soften. "Look, I get that We can be a little overwhelming sometimes...." He raised his eyebrows, an amused expression playing on his face. She shrugged. "Okay, *I* can be a bit overwhelming....but, Angel, it's only 'cos I care about you....and I don't want to lose you or my pay cheque ever again. You get that right?"  
  
Angel only had to look into her hazel eyes once, before giving way. He sighed. "Yeah.... I get it. But i need you to trust me again." He gave her the patented Angel puppy dog eyes. "Can you do that?"  
  
She brightened a little, and moved to reply, but faltered at the last second. Angel noticed her demeanour's immediate change and wondered what it was behind him that caused her to back away.  
  
The voice sounding out behind him answered his questions. "Now, why would she want to do that?"  
  
He growled and turned to remind his 'guest' of the promise he'd made the last he'd seen them, but stopped in horror at what he saw. His eyes widened. It wasn't possible. There was no way....While his mind raced, only one word could form at his lips. "Darla?"  
  
She nodded, her hand resting on her stomach. "The one and only." She grinned wickedly, but he saw the fear in her eyes. "Now, i want to know what exactly you did to me and how do i get rid of it?"  
  
Angel looked her over. She was a vampire. There was no way it was possible. And what did she mean by what HE did to her? Wait, was he supposed to be the.... no. That was wrong as well. HE was also a vampire. That made it even less possible. Finally he managed to reply. "You.... you're.... how?"  
  
"Pregnant? yes. How? Well, i was hoping you'd be able to tell me." Her eyes flashed gold. "Considering that you're the evil son of a bitch that did this!"  
  
"But you're a....we're both vampires. It's impossible."  
  
She stalked towards him, hand still attached to her slightly rounded abdomen, and he almost felt the urge to run like the wind and into the impending sunlight. However, he maintained his resolve as she approached. Stopping centimetres from where he stood, she tilted her head to the side. "I know that. And you know that. And every stupid other being seems to know that....and yet this THING inside me seems to say otherwise."  
  
He swallowed and nodded. "H-how far along....?"  
  
"Oh I hope this thing gets your brains." The blonde tossed back sarcastically. "Think about it. You kicked me out of here about 5 or so months ago....so logic says...."  
  
He grimaced at his stupidity. But then, he did have an excuse to be so out of it at the moment: he was in shock. He nodded absentmindedly and ran his hand through his hair. Turning to see Wesley he stated, "It's not possible." He had no idea who he was trying to reassure, but it sure wasn't working.  
  
Then another thought hit him. He spun to look at Cordelia. "Cordy...."  
  
She glared stakes at him. "Is she telling the truth?"  
  
"I don't-"  
  
"Or better yet- Did you lie to me and tell me that you didn't have sex with her?"  
  
"Cordy....I-"  
  
It was Darla's voice that cut him off this time. "Lied." She snorted with laughter. "Let me tell you something honey, that's all men do. Especially this one-" She gestured at Angel. "They lie.... and knock you up and then won't take responsibility for their actions. It's a fact of life....and apparently my unlife." The blonde turned and dropped onto the couch, "And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't get rid of this thing! I'm going insane here! I don't want it! I never asked for it!" She started to cry, vamping out with frustration. "And the hormones are making it THAT much harder to be a proper vampire!"  
  
Cordelia softened and rushed to Darla's side, ordering Gunn to fetch a glass of water as she did. Glaring at Angel, Cordelia passed the liquid to Darla and smiled softly. "I'm sorry."  
  
Angel gasped. "What?" The brunette turned to scowl at him, before turning back to fussing over his evil ex. That just wasn't fair. "Cordelia.... I...."  
  
She held up her hand to silence him. "No....Don't even start." "But...."  
  
"I said leave it!"  
  
Dropping his head in defeat, Angel turned to say something -anything- to Wes, before the reality of what Darla had just told him sunk in. He spun around and looked at the blonde. "What do you mean you've tried to get rid of it but you can't?"  
  
The blonde gave him a withering look. Cordy raised an eyebrow.  
  
'Okay, I get it!' Angel said raising his hands.  
  
'You ever *try* shooting yourself in the stomach? Not exactly painless, you know,' Darla snarled at him.  
  
Angel looked hurt. 'Hey, I'm a vampire. Kinda a reason from splitting from Buffy. I didn't *actually* see this coming, you know?!' he yelled. Cordy smirked.  
  
'Angel, you're 250 years old..'  
  
'248,' he growled.  
  
'Whatever. Look, condoms have been around for a while now. It is possible to sleep with a girl and *not* knock her up,' she said reasonably.  
  
'This coming from the girl who got pregnant on a first date?' Angel snapped. Cordelia went pale.  
  
'Okay, *that* one, below the belt. And wait a second...' she looked puzzled. 'How come you're all souled up? ' She looked at Darla. ' You not able to please him or something? Cos I figured that blonde thing would work even if you didn't. '  
  
Darla glared, and Angel resisted the urge to chuckle. Cordy with the claws out was not pretty.  
  
'I have no idea *why* he's not evil. Believe me, I pleased him. I used to be a professional at that, sweetheart. And my boy..' she swallowed, 'was most definitely *pleased*.' She smiled sweetly at Cordy, totally aware of Cordelia's feelings towards her ex boss.  
  
Cordelia's nose wrinkled. 'Honey, if skank pleased him, he'd be poured into a pair of leather pants right around now.'  
  
Darla's eyes widened. She sprang at Cordelia, her hands outstretched. Angel stepped in front.  
  
'Darla, I think you're old enough to deal with a little name calling,' he said.  
  
'You implanted a load of human hormones into me. I'm a demon. I'm bound to go a little skitzo, don't you think?' she sniped. Angel grabbed her hands.  
  
'Not at this moment. You're on my ground, in *my* hotel. I'd appreciate you not killing my friends, until we've figured out what *this*-' he gestured to her slightly protruding belly '-means.' She pouted and sat down.  
  
'Hey people. How's my man, Wes?' Gunn's cheerful shout echoed in the hotel. He came to an abrupt stop in front of Darla.  
  
'Obviously doin' well,' he commented. Darla vamped, and snapped her teeth.  
  
'Not his. Mine,' Angel said tersely.  
  
'Now that is not pretty,' Gunn told Darla. 'You bein' such a fine vampire an' all.' He realised what Angel had said. 'WHAT?'  
  
Angel shrugged. "My reaction exactly."  
  
The young black man edged past the blonde vampiress and stopped at the ex- watcher's side. "So, English, Take it I missed somethin'?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Spike opened his eyes and groaned. His head hurt something shocking, which meant he'd had a fair bit to drink last night. 'Oh well...' he thought. 'Should clear up soon enough.' Hoisting himself onto his elbows, Spike surveyed his surroundings. He was back in his crypt, though he had no recollection of how or when he had made it back.  
  
But there was something distinctly different about his crypt this morning. Perhaps it was the naked, blonde, ex-vengeance demon sprawled out beside him?  
  
Yeah. That had to be it.  
  
Wait....hold on. Rewind and all that crap. WHO was sprawled out beside him? Spike took a double take and moaned. Why her? She'd been hurt enough times already. Just like him. This would only complicate matters further.  
  
He watched as she stirred and groaned as well. The hangover thing wouldn't be quite as easy to kick for her. She yawned and rolled over to look into his eyes.  
  
One look at the position she was in and she put two and two together. "Aaawww shit." Anya's hair was mussed, and her make up from the night before was smeared over her face. He couldn't resist it.  
  
'Morning luv,' he said lazily, and watched her squirm.  
  
Anya gave the blond an appraising look.  
  
' God, I knew that when humans got over people they slept with trash, but I never thought that it would be this bad!' she said. Spike's cocky smirk fled.  
  
'What? you mean you.... he gestured to the clothes on the floor. ' If I'm filth luv, you're the one who loves to roll in it!' he said, fighting back.  
  
'True. When there is a gallon of tequila crapping up my thought processes. Now I'm dandy, and completely sickened by what happened. Now if you'll excuse me,' she gathered her clothing, ' I assume since you gained pleasure through it I don't have to pay you? I know you're Buffy's whore, but I'm not looking for one myself'.  
  
Anya left, with a heavy headache, as Spike ground his teeth in disbelief, and anger. He had thought only Buffy could be *that* bitchy.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A few weeks on......  
  
Angel investigations  
  
'I quit!' Cordy hollered. 'I'm not snack food for your mistress, Angel! I'm an American!'  
  
'Don't kid yourself I wanted to eat you,' Darla sneered. ' You wouldn't be appetising if you weren't, say human.'  
  
'Children!' Wesley yelled.  
  
The two females stopped sulkily. Angel heaved a sigh of relief and silently decided to erect a shrine to the ex-watcher. After a few more seconds Darla started to huff and puff about the lack of food.  
  
"...And that's another thing!" She snarled. "You expect me to drink PIG'S BLOOD? I wouldn't go near that crap if it was the last form of blood on earth!"  
  
Angel took a step backwards, hands raised in defeat. "Okay. Okay." He said, "But i can't let you drink human blood. I can't let you hunt. It's against everything i stand for."  
  
Darla stalked towards him, one hand resting on her rapidly swelling abdomen. She glared at him. "And if your *hell spawn* dies because i couldn't provide nourishment?"  
  
"It won't!" Angel growled in response. He took a step towards her, as if trying to intimidate her in return. It wouldn't work, but it was still worth a shot. "My *child* will be healthy because if i have to i will chain you down and force feed you."  
  
Why was she still fighting this? They'd been through the exact same scene everyday for the past 7 weeks, and she *still* argued with him. Cordelia hadn't been too helpful either. In fact, all she had done since Darla showed up was antagonise the aforementioned vamp and threaten to quit when Darla LITERALLY snapped back.  
  
In the middle of his musing, Angel realised something. They didn't actually know anything about this *miracle* of theirs. Sure, Wes had been looking, but they still hadn't found any answers.  
  
Looking at the ex-watcher he tilted his head to the side. "Still nothing helpful i take it?"  
  
"No...." Wesley shook his head. "Still no luck. Sorry Angel."  
  
Darla threw her hands into the air and grunted in frustration. "Argh! All I've wanted to know for the past 7 months is WHAT is it, HOW did it get there-" She rolled her eyes at Cordelia "-As in 'HOW COULD 2 *INFERTILE* CREATURES PUT IT THERE' and, here's the most important, HOW THE HELL DO I GET RID OF IT????"  
  
Angel growled in frustration. "You wont get rid of it. You've tried remember? It didn't work. Something magical protecting it or whatever. Besides, its a miracle and-"  
  
"If you give me that freaking 'Miracle' spiel once more I'll go insane! Remember Dru, lover?" She hissed. "Besides, we don't know what this, this *thing* is yet, thanks to your wonderfully efficient research team!"  
  
Angel cringed and fought the urge to stake her anyway. "They're trying their hardest!"  
  
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well it's not good enough! I want answers and i want them now!"  
  
"And that's *really* mature." Cordelia snarked in the background. "What are you? 5?"  
  
"Cordy." Angel warned, shaking his head in the classic 'leave it be' gesture. "Not now."  
  
The brunette shrugged it off and stepped towards him as well. "Then when, huh? Wes has been working his ass off looking for *your* answers and has it ever occurred to either of you that we'll all sleep easier once we know what, exactly, from hell you guys created!"  
  
"Why don't ya get a sonogram?" Fred's voice floated across the lobby. She walked towards them, "I mean, it'll probably only answer your basic 'is it demon or human' question. But it's a start, right?"  
  
Wesley grinned. "I believe that's a brilliant idea, Fred." She blushed and he continued to smile at her, before muttering "I only wished we'd thought of it earlier."  
  
"Ah....Wes. One problem." Cordelia said, waving her hand to get his attention. "She doesn't exactly have a heartbeat. How do we explain THAT to a doctor?"  
  
"Well...."  
  
Fred's hand shot up. "Ooh.... I think i know!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Sunnydale....  
  
'Oh crap.' the ex demon shouted loudly, examining the tiny piece of cardboard. People passing by cast looks of shock. 'Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman before?' she shouted loudly. 'Chock a block of nasty hormones, and right now I'm so gonna *kill* Xander!' Since it was America, the passers by decided it was just another crazy, and kept on passing by. But the ex demon hadn't finished. Not exactly bad with mathematics, she soon realised that Xander plus Anya plus baby was not correct.  
  
*******************************  
  
Spike finished the pinkie on his left hand, and sucking in a non existent breath, carefully started the next nail. His black manicure had to be refreshed every so often, cos who ever heard of a big bad with chipped nail polish?  
  
Then about 120 pounds of hormonal female with a crossbow mucked up the near prefect beauty regime.  
  
'What the f..?' he said disgustedly, glancing up. ' Oh it's you. For a minute there I thought it was the Vampire Layer herbloodyself. Just like old times,' he said sarcastically.  
  
'Can it, Spike,' Anya spat out.  
  
'Hey, you're the lady with death in her hands, I'll keep stum,' he said, holding up his hands.  
  
'Correction. Pregnant lady with death in her hands. And apparently the so called big bad of the undead is still apparently not dead, as I haven't been with Xander for seven months, and since my stomach is not preceding me into your crypt, you do the math,' she said icily, tightening the grip on the crossbow.  
  
'Do you bints not get it? I bloody sang about it, if you'll recall! I' died so many years ago,' he sang huskily. 'I'm dead, luv. Reason the poof scarpered from the Bloodbag with a complimentary stake. Puts paid to the nine to five job and the two point four children.'  
  
'Well the rules have changed. Unless you're insinuating what I really hope you're *not* insinuating, unless you want the story to end, 'and Daddy turned into a pile of dust' you'll agree that I haven't been with a guy except for you. Go figure.'  
  
' But...how?' Spike said hopelessly, gesturing gormlessly, with the now impossibly smeared nails at the still slim girl in front of him.  
  
'Ask another, mastermind. Maybe sautéing your swimmers in tequila stimulates growth. How the hell do I know? All I want is it out, *now*,' she said slowly, aiming the crossbow.  
  
With a little growl of annoyance, he sprang forward, and snatched the bow, and snapped it.  
  
He vamped.  
  
'Now, what were you saying?'  
  
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	2. Blood, souls, and explanations

A/N: Okay, well, this has been written for a while, and sitting in my (Star) email account, and I've fished it up, and stuck it together. Up now, new arrivals in Sunnydale, and a crisis for Angel.. Duhduhdah!  
  
This is Star, cos I don't think Insane1 would let me if I put it as us! I just wanna say, to answer a couple of questions, Spike is speaking phonetics, and if you read the books, he always says 'luv' rather than 'love'. And it's English. And sorry, Imazadi, Lindsey can't be the father, we've got two babies, and two daddies. I'll stopp talkin, as Insane1 looks like she's gonna kill me! On with the story! (runs like hell!)  
  
Anya stared at Spike and frowned. "I don't WANT this!" She exclaimed, anger taking her over again. They'd had about 10 minutes to calm down and try to discuss the situation rationally. Of course, those plans had flown out the window.  
  
"Too bad luv," Spike countered, "As much as you don't want this, it's happening. An' there is no way in hell you're doin' anythin' to make it go away until we find out why and how it happened."  
  
"Well..." She began.  
  
He held up his hand to silence her. "NOT like that. I know how the li'l tykes are made woman. Just not by the evil undead."  
  
"But-"  
  
"I mean we need to find out why and how somethin' with dead swimmers shouldn't be able to make li'l evil undeads...."  
  
She gasped. "Whatever it is better not be evil." She scowled. "Or undead."  
  
"Hence we need to take this problem of ours and find out exactly what it is we're dealin' with." He stated matter-of-factly.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him as he took her hand and led her towards the door of his crypt. "You know.... you're starting to sound like Giles."  
  
He froze as they got outside where the sun had just disappeared over the horizon. Choking, he spun and glared at her again. "TAKE THAT BACK!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel tapped his fingers against the top of the machine impatiently. "What's taking so long?" He asked, trying not to whine.  
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes and peered over the top of her COSMO at him. "You heard Wes before. It takes a while for the thingy to warm up." She shrugged. "Besides you've waited 2 months, you can wait 2 minutes more."  
  
Deflated, Angel nodded and sighed in frustration. Fred had been smart enough to suggest borrowing one of the hospital's sonagraph machines and a private room by pulling some strings with one of the doctors they met every time someone needed to be patched up worse than usual. After all, Cordelia had become quite an expert with bandaging wounds and the like, but there were times when Wes or Gunn had needed a little bit more in the medical department.  
  
"Okay, it's runnin'," Fred said, glancing over the top of her glasses. Angel looked at Cordelia. Then at Darla. Then told himself that 250 odd vamps do not jump up and down in glee.  
  
"Darla," The physicist started, "If ya lie down.."  
  
"Sure, that's a good idea, give the secretary from hell a good position for staking!" Darla snapped.  
  
Fred blushed, and went quiet.  
  
"That's enough!" Wesley shouted.  
  
Darla gave him a cool look, which looked a bit odd with the rounded dome of her stomach. "What now, little boy?" she shot at him.  
  
Wesley grabbed a cross. "Your child will have a highly interesting birthmark if you don't stop snapping at everyone on this team!" He snarled through gritted teeth. "Got it?"  
  
"Well, I've heard of non-mom-like types, but this will be the first scenario where the mother *is* allergic to her child," Cordy muttered with a smirk. Darla looked like a cat about to pounce. "Easy there, Moby," the ex-cheerleader grinned.  
  
Darla's eyes widened and she started to struggle against Angel's grasp. Luckily he was holding her back, otherwise the brunette bitch wouldn't have known what hit her.  
  
"Cordelia," Wesley sighed, exasperated. "You are definitely not helping."  
  
Cordy just shrugged, and sat down.  
  
Gunn yawned and stretched, looking around the room. "I don't get it." He groaned. "Why am *I* here? I could be dustin' vamps tonight, not going googoo over some fuzzball on a screen that looks like bad static."  
  
Angel once again told himself that it was Angelus who had the nun habit, and a penchant for ripping people's throats out. "We are here," he replied, while Fred played with knobs and things, "to see my child."  
  
"Oooooh...Any minute he'll produce a tissue," Darla sniped; now lying flat on her back.  
  
Cordelia got up and peered over the vampire's stomach, taking in the way she was positioned. "Nice to see you're doing what you do best." She snarked, then tried to get comfortable in her seat once more.  
  
"Was there any kind of point to that?" Wesley breathed tersely.  
  
"Nope," Cordelia shrugged, and gave him the hundred-watt grin. "Just got PMS."  
  
"Um, guys?" Fred said, gesturing at the screen.  
  
A couple of minutes later, the gang were clustered around the screen.  
  
"What are we looking for, then?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Fangs," Cordy answered as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.  
  
"Hey, I can't see," Darla protested.  
  
The ex-cheerleader rolled her eyes and refused to budge. "You tried to kill it. You lost seeing privileges."  
  
Gunn groaned. "Somebody gag her." He paused a bit. "Sorry. I meant: Would somebody gag her PLEASE?"  
  
"What exactly are we lookin' for Angel?" Fred asked gently, steering the conversation AWAY from a violent ending. Or so she hoped. "I mean, you've seen the screen, there's not much.... Wait!" she suddenly said, and turned another knob. The room was filled with a soft, pulsing beat.  
  
Gunn was puzzled. "What's that?" He asked. Even Cordelia knew how dumb he sounded, but let it go.  
  
"That's my baby's heartbeat," Angel breathed. "It's, it's human!"  
  
Darla rolled her eyes and tossed her head back onto the pillow. "Oh Brother..."  
  
************************  
  
Anya sat on the sarcophagus, while Spike paced. They still hadn't made it out of the crypt, even though he had TRIED to take her back to The Magic Box, and he was still trying to process everything. "How could this happen?" he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Um, Spike?" Anya began tentatively.  
  
"Thinkin' here," he snapped, and resumed pacing.  
  
"Spike!" she said a bit louder.  
  
"Not now!" he responded, without stopping or even turning to look at her.  
  
"Spi-ike," she moaned again, now turning a pale green.  
  
"What?" he cried in frustration, spinning to watch as Anya emptied her stomach all over his floor. "Bloody hell!"  
  
Ten minutes later, Anya was ensconced in Spike's armchair, eyes glued to Passions, while Spike thought. She had gone from green to white to pink again, and now seemed quite content. However, it had been hell for him cleaning it up.  
  
"Why do they call it mornin' sickness if you're not sick in the bloody mornin'?" he grumbled.  
  
"You inflicted this on me so no complaining." She told him, attention still focussed on the TV.  
  
"*I* inflicted this on *you*?" He repeated in bewilderment.  
  
Anya turned. "Are you going to need me to call Hallie to sort this out?" She demanded.  
  
The vampire paled even further at the mention of Cecily. "No," He gulped, "No complaints."  
  
"Good," she responded simply, and turned back to the screen.  
  
Becoming restless, Spike switched it off.  
  
"Hey!" she whined. "I was watching that!"  
  
"Look, Anya, forget the telly." He began, grabbing the arm she shot out to switch it back on again.  
  
She pouted. "I have had to vomit this morning and again this evening, and now you're trying to stop mindless television fun?" She asked.  
  
"Anya, we need to talk...." She was ignoring him, and straining towards the TV. He tried to remain calm. It didn't work. "I mean, you're bloody pregnant for Christ's Sake!" He raised his voice, losing patience.  
  
"What?!" Buffy's voice sounded out, as she came through the door.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel sat at his desk, staring into space. His child, his little child, his...son. Fred had pointed out the baby's sex, and since that moment, Angel had not heard a word.  
  
His child.  
  
It was ironic, that he was sitting here in L.A, with the woman who he could truthfully say he hated, bearing the one thing he had thought he could never have. The woman who should have been sharing this was in Sunnydale, a curious mix of little girl, and mature woman. A woman who's voice used to make his unliving heart jump.  
  
Buffy.  
  
As he thought the word, his lips shaped it, a word that he never allowed himself to say. Because he'd relinquished her, given up the one thing that seemed to be a gift, not a curse, and tried to hide from the fact that he had no future, and here he was, with a son that would be in his arms within the next few months.  
  
He had no tears left. He had cried silently in broken joy, and emotion, and the tracks they had left were still marking his cheeks. He already loved his son, but he questioned whether he would have loved him more if Buffy had been his mother.  
  
No.  
  
He couldn't. With Buffy, he could have relished the fact that she grew with him, that another ritual bound her to him, the way he had claimed her. With Buffy, he could have held her when she was sick, and fed her crackers. He could have told stories to her belly, and felt the baby's first kick.  
  
But there was no way he would have loved his son more. To Angel, it felt like his redemption. There was nothing to crown his child's heartbeat.  
  
"Angel?" Cordelia's soft voice cut into his reverie, and broke the spell.  
  
Yet another woman he could see himself being with. Although, he didn't know about that anymore. After seeing the disgust in her eyes, his feelings had faltered for a second. Sure, he still loved her, but after seeing her response, he didn't know if there would ever be a slight chance between them. Especially if she despised him. Yet another unrequited love for the vampire with a soul.  
  
Angel looked into her eyes, the tiniest glimmer of hope shining through. "Yes?" He asked, wondering if there was any chance she was going to run into his arms and hug him. Or tell him that she wanted to share his happiness. He wanted to laugh at the patheticness of his thoughts. She'd never want that. She'd never see him as anything more than a friend and co- worker. If that.  
  
"Darla's outside." She stated, trying not to look at him. "She wants to talk to you."  
  
Cordelia hated to be the message bearer... She despised the fact that she would be witness to the bond the two vampires now shared.  
  
When they had been in high school, and she had wanted Buffy's handsome sophisticated boyfriend, she had wanted him because he was Buffy's. When Buffy had broken up with him, in the fatalistic way she had, it had shocked Cordelia too. Angel could never experience what would be the one experience to encapsulate true love. And now she loved him, with all her heart, with the soul that she had discovered through him, and she had been unable to tell him. She could, as Buffy could, not share with him the life he richly deserved. She could not walk in the sun, along the beach with his hand entwined with hers. She could not be part of a threesome of contentment, walking in the mall, with her hand enclasping her child's, with Angel looking at her with love over the top of his or her head.  
  
It wasn't possible.  
  
And yet, she'd dared to dream. Castles in the sky had been built up, and the secret hope that the place where Groo had shielded her seeing could shield Angel's soul.  
  
But castles in the sky are flimsy, especially when dreams are built on top.  
  
And Darla's entrance had stabbed Cordelia with her own love. Angel's joy in his son twisted the blade in her heart. She was crying tears of blood inside for the future he would now share with Darla. But again, her other half rejoiced for her friend, glorying in the fate he had never deemed possible. He had never heard her fairytales of life with him.  
  
And as she brought herself to look at him, she noticed the way his eyes shined with hope and tears of joy. She only wished he would feel something similar towards her.  
  
"Oh. All right. I'll be back later. " Angel moved as quickly as he had done every time Buffy had been in danger, and Cordelia felt like weeping. The sort of crying with hopelessness of someone who knows they have lost everything and no one seems to notice.  
  
Of course, she could still dare to dream, but the thoughts made her want to break down even more.  
  
*********************************  
  
"Pregnant?" Buffy repeated, standing in the doorway.  
  
"Slayer, bloody shut the door," Spike growled.  
  
"I'm waiting," She whined.  
  
The vampire rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes, I am pregnant." Anya said loudly, "Now can we move on?"  
  
"Oh my God!" Buffy covered her mouth with her hands. She rushed at Anya. "I'm so happy for you!" she snuffled, tossing her arms around the other woman's neck.  
  
Spike stared. Had the bint gone insane from sexual tension?  
  
"Have you told Xander?" Buffy was asking, and it hit Spike that Buffy, not being the brightest slayer in the room, hadn't worked out yet that it couldn't be Xander's.  
  
"No," Anya said, and took a deep breath.  
  
"Why? And why are you here? With Spike!" Buffy wrinkled her nose.  
  
Spike wondered why he had once thought that was cute. Make no mistake, he was dying to walk over there, grab Buffy, and have his way with her, but the black and white she saw the world in was becoming serious. And it was turning him off her faster than a snowball would melt in hell.  
  
"I mean, I can understand anger equalling hanging with Spike, but not happy news!" Buffy laughed.  
  
Anya sighed and decided it was easier to be blunt with the bimbo. "The reason I haven't told Xander is that it isn't his."  
  
"What?" Buffy breathed, making a double take.  
  
"In fact," The ex-demon continued. "It's Spike's."  
  
Buffy's face changed from a look of shock, to one of... Spike tilted his head to the side. Why did she look so sad? Abruptly, the wistful look that had stolen over her face changed to one of anger.  
  
"Jeez, Anya, you can go from Xander, to...to...*that*?" she spat in disgust, gesturing contemptuously at Spike.  
  
"Now wait a bloody minute, Slayer.." Spike growled, moving towards her, but Anya stretched out a hand to silence him.  
  
"Grow up Buffy. I know you were sleeping with him, and your reaction is ridiculous in the situation."  
  
"Did Tara tell you?" Buffy gasped, before thinking of a more obvious solution. "Or did HE-"  
  
"No." The other woman cut in, "I worked it out. I might be the dumb ex- demon type obsessed with money, but I can work some things out. All the late nights, the way you were distant. For someone in love with a vampire, you sure as hell can't see the shades of grey."  
  
"I'm not in love with Spike!" Buffy blustered.  
  
"I was referring to Angel, but it's interesting to see how you sprang to that conclusion," Anya said, smiling slightly. "Now, before you ask, I got drunk. Spike got drunk. I was attempting to get over Xander, while he was from you and we had sex. I woke up. I ran like hell. And now, around two months later, I walked into a drug store and bought a pregnancy test. You know the result so End Of Story."  
  
The slayer's face contorted in confusion as she struggled to process the information. "But....Angel said....I mean, I thought vampires couldn't...." She made vague hand movements and dropped herself down on the couch, much to Spike's dislike. "It's not biologically possible."  
  
"Exactly what I keep pointin' out!" The vampire sighed in frustration. "And I *was* tryin' to work that out myself actually, so if you wouldn't mind...." He lifted her by the arm and proceeded to drag her to the door.  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to move. "I'm not going anywhere. In fact, Anya's gonna need someone other than you through this so- "  
  
Horrified at the notion, both Anya and Spike shook their heads. "No!"  
  
Spike tilted his head to the side, observing Anya's identical reaction, and grinned. She glared at him and looked back at Buffy. "Not like that. It's just....I don't think i'm gonna see this through-"  
  
Now it was Buffy's voice that joined Spike's in mortified objection. "NO!"  
  
He stopped and looked at the slayer in disbelief. "What?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Okay....I'm here. Where's the fire?" Angel said, making his way to where Darla sat. She looked up at him from her mag and blinked a couple of times. He shifted his feet nervously under her gaze. "Cordy said you wanted to....talk to me?"  
  
"Oh....Yeah....That...." She responded, setting the magazine aside and pulling herself up in her seat awkwardly.  
  
Instinctively, Angel reached out to help her, and was surprised when she didn't snap at him. Suddenly the reality of that came crashing down on him. "What's wrong?" He asked, his hand resting on her belly. He didn't even notice it was there until the child inside her kicked. And yet, Darla still didn't berate him. "Darla...." He pushed. "What's up?"  
  
She shook herself out of whatever it was she was thinking and looked at him. She didn't glare. She didn't narrow her eyes. She just looked at him. And Angel actually noticed her tears. He froze. Darla and emotional stuff? This was just strange. "Uh...Darla...."  
  
"I hate this!" She hissed finally, lashing out at his shirt. He wanted to protest (that was a good shirt!) but thought it wiser to keep his mouth shut. "I hate this!" She cried again, her sobs starting to take her over. "I....Hate....This!"  
  
Sitting down beside her, Angel really didn't know what to do as she leant against his chest and wept. His free hand drifted to stroke her hair and he found himself trying to console her. "I know....I'm sorry...." He murmured. "But I can't regret it.... Not now...."  
  
"That's just IT!" She wailed against him. "You *can't regret it*! You're going to love him while I'll revert back to wanting to EAT HIM!"  
  
"You don't.... WHAT?"  
  
"I worked it out Angel.... I have this human soul inside me. It's not just the hormones that have been making me emotional.... It's also the soul...HIS SOUL.... and now i'm starting to....to...." She broke down into howls again.  
  
"To what?" He asked, his mind racing to catch up with hers.  
  
She sniffled. "To l...l...love him. And it should sicken me! I mean, while you get to raise him and love him and all that crap I'll just be another soulless vampire...." She left the sentence hanging and he picked it up.  
  
"And you think that you won't love him?" Angel didn't even notice the fact that'd she'd referred to their child as a 'he' and not an 'it' or 'creature' or something to that measure.  
  
She nodded and he smiled sadly. "Darla, honestly, even without a soul, vampires can love. You've seen it happen. Look at Spike and Dru before she left...." He trailed off and thought for a second. "Okay, new example.... (The vampire couple at the beginning of season 3)" He paused. "There's still hope, Darla. You could...we could...."  
  
"We could what Angel?" She snapped, suddenly regaining her anger. "You think we could live together as a great, big, dysfunctional, happy family?!" He looked down, and she let out a snort of laughter. "You're delusional!" She declared pushing herself out of her seat.  
  
"No, Darla, I'm not. This is something that I," he gazed up at her with the patented puppy eyes, "I never thought possible. And it's not bad that you love him. He's going to be our child, a baby that will love us unconditionally. He won't care about your past, you'll be his mom," he scratched his head, "Okay, a night mom, but who is a morning person?"  
  
Darla stared at her hands for this speech, but her head rocketed up, with her eyes flashing. "Yeah, babies are really cute Angelus," she drawled sarcastically. "Remember what we did most with them? Oh yes," she drew her fingernail along her lower lip in a gesture that oozed sex, "We *ate* them. I don't care that you've turned into molten goo over this, but I'm a vampire. One that hasn't been neutered. I want it *out*, *now*." She dragged her eyes up and down him, and noted the gesture of hopelessness. She turned, and walked away.  
  
Angel sat there, his soul stabbing painfully. No, you didn't need a heartbeat to love, probably not even a soul judging by Spike and (The vampy at beginning of season 3). He was a vampire in love with his son, and only love could burn this painfully when reaction hit. Darla didn't want it. She'd been given a gift, and was throwing it away. No, not it, *him*.  
  
Angel got up, turned and walked back inside his office, once again clouded by thought.  
  
*********************** Just over Two months later: Sunnydale  
  
"Spike, I swear I'm going to stake you with your own stake if I can just..find..something..that..fits..!" Anya groaned, as she attempted to squeeze into a pair of trousers that didn't come with a sports label. She lost the waning battle, and surveyed the damage in the mirror.  
  
She still stood about 5'5, and her blond hair was curled around her face. Her face was flushed, and her skin was, well the books said glowy. Anya thought this meant *sweaty*. And she found, as her eyes dropped to where her waist *had* formerly existed, that a tiny bulge had set up residence, doming out her stomach slightly. It still wasn't that noticeable to anyone else, but she couldn't fit her clothes properly anymore and that made her want to kill something. Namely a certain bleach blonde vampire....  
  
The pants slid down to her ankles. Once again, the ex-demon used curses on Spike that wouldn't have been out of place in her demon days. She sighed and decided to wear a skirt instead. One with an elastic waistband. Luckily, it still fit her.  
  
Five minutes later, she scrambled out of the door in an attempt to reach the Magic Box and open it, without being late. Not a chance.  
  
The Scoobies, minus Xander (who was probably at work), were clustered around the door, anxiously tapping on the glass.  
  
"Hi guys," Anya smiled brightly, walking up behind them and pulling out her keys.  
  
"Um, hi, Anya. Why are you late?" Dawn asked.  
  
Because I was barfing up my trachea due to a half demon half vampire child set up residence in my stomach after naughty fun with your beloved Spike Anya thought irritably. The little brat had got on her nerves more than ever since she had discovered her pregnancy.  
  
"Just slept in," she responded with a false cheeriness, unlocking the door.  
  
When they were seated around the table, with the latest demon research books open in front of them, Spike raced in with a smouldering blanket over his head.  
  
All eyes flew up to observe him. Willow tilted her head to the side, and crinkled her nose. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Yeah...." Buffy agreed, one eyebrow lifted. "I thought Giles had made it perfectly clear you weren't wanted here."  
  
"And good morning to you. Nice to see the Americans bein' so bloody friendly an' all." Spike tossed back acidly, dropping the blanket.  
  
Dawn gave him a typical bitchy teen look, then fell silent. Far funnier to watch the pro-Summers in action.  
  
"Look, I have something to tell you, and Spike is here because.." Anya twisted her finger slightly, "Because I have to tell him too," she finished. Okay, so it was a *tiny* modification of the truth. They didn't have to know that she'd already told him. In fact, it was probably safer that they didn't. For him anyway.  
  
Everyone stared, waiting for her to continue.  
  
"I'm pregnant," she said apologetically.  
  
Only Buffy remained seated, the others flung themselves all over her, and cried and, in Willow's case, snuffled congratulations in her ears.  
  
"And it's Spike's," she finished. Everyone took a step back.  
  
"Yeah, real funny Anya," Dawn laughed "So when's it due? I mean, you must be at least seven months along if Xander.. It *is* Xander's isn't it?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"No joke. Spike and I.." she glanced across at the vampire, who looked slightly shocked that she was actually telling them with him in the room. He probably thought he needed warning before she did, so he could skip town to avoid certain dusting. Oh well, he'd have to deal with the consequences of his actions, especially seeing as she had to. "Spike and I... um... well, I got pregnant. Somehow. And I'm around four and a half months along," she added, with a sharp look at Dawn. "I guess it's due in another four and a half months then." She finished, muttering a tiny, "Although I wish it wasn't at all...."  
  
Spike's eyes flew up at her and he scowled. "We've been through this, pet. Even the slayer-" He stopped himself, realising that the ex-demon had tried to cover up their previous knowledge just a few minutes ago. Perhaps the women would still be in shock over her revelation.  
  
No such luck.  
  
"What do you mean you've 'been through this'?" Dawn asked, narrowing her gaze at him. "I thought Anya said she was just telling you....telling us. And what's this about Buffy?" She spun to look at her sister. "Did you know?" She whined. "How long have you known?" Now she spun her gaze back to Anya. "And you! You told them before us?! And also...SPIKE? You slept with SPIKE?!"  
  
Spike grimaced and wanted to hit himself upside the head. The bit had been like a little sister to him, yet here she was clearly disgusted with the notion of Anya and him together....So much for supportive, grown up young lady. Maybe he should ask her if she would scream the words 'get out' a few times too!  
  
Anya just glared at the vampire, then at the annoying teenager and reared herself up to full height. "Of course I told Spike first! What did you expect you annoying little girl? That I go straight to you to get your approval? And Buffy shouldn't have known. She overheard me and Spike talking just over two months ago....she was probably coming around to sleep with him again, you know. Anyway, that's how she found out. Yes, you heard me, I'm not the only Scooby to have been nailed by the vampire. I wonder if you think it's so disgusting now that your darling sister has done the same. Only she didn't get knocked up."  
  
The 16 year old blinked a few times, processing Anya's rant, while her older sister sat in a state of shock herself, mouth moving like a goldfish, but no sound escaping her lips. Why did Anya have to go and blurt THAT out? She hadn't even said a THING to the ex-demon today, and all she had been for the past 2 or so months was supportive. That was a low blow from the hormone-ridden shopkeeper and Buffy was not impressed.  
  
Meanwhile Willow's jaw dropped as well. Buffy had been sleeping with Spike? That couldn't have been right. Especially seeing as she hadn't noticed. How could she not have noticed? Who else had known? The redhead looked around at the others. Buffy was looking down at her hands, Dawn was still in shock herself and Tara was.... Not.  
  
Willow looked at her girlfriend, feeling somewhat betrayed. "You knew?" She asked quietly. "About Buffy and Spike I mean." The other girl nodded and suddenly Willow felt angry. "How could you not tell me?" She hissed.  
  
"B-baby I....it wasn't m-my place to t-tell." Tara stammered.  
  
Willow instantly regretted the tone she'd used. "Tara, sweetie, I'm sorry...."  
  
A small smile appeared on the other's face. "I know."  
  
"HEY!" Anya cut in slightly put out by the fact that they were going all gushy while she was in the middle of a crisis. "Attention back to ME for a second!"  
  
Spike smirked, he was starting to get used to the woman's outbursts. Besides, she'd stuck up for him....kinda. Striding over to her, he shifted a stray strand of hair from her face and looked into her eyes. He was met with an icy glare that made him laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?" She demanded, pulling away from his touch.  
  
"You are luv." He responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  
  
They weren't in any form of relationship, but he had demanded that he be part of his child's life. And he had made it pretty clear from the word go that there *would* be a child, whether she wanted it or no. He had even told her that he'd take full custody if she wanted nothing to do with the mite, but knew that she'd come around sooner or later. Even the damn slayer had insisted she keep the child, trying to argue the ethics of aborting a baby as opposed to aborting a pregnancy. And, apparently, there was quite a difference. So Anya had begrudgingly agreed to have the baby and ever since Spike had been trying to spend more and more time with her.  
  
Not that she minded of course. It was actually quite comforting to know she didn't have to be alone in this. That he really did want to be there for every part of his child's life. However, all this lovey-dovey stuff he was starting to pull was scaring her.  
  
"How am I funny?" She snapped at him. "You think it's funny feeling sick all the time? Getting fatter and fatter until my clothes don't fit? Having my so-called friends scorn me because of one tiny little mistake-"  
  
She knew that had been the wrong phrase when his brow furrowed and his demeanour darkened. "Don't EVER refer to my child as a mistake again." He instructed her. When her eyes started to fill with tears he cursed and lightened immediately. "Pet....don't cry. I didn't mean to snap at you."  
  
She lifted her head, and he saw her pouting. Tears still glinted on her cheeks, and her hands were knotted together at her waist. She looked like a child herself, not a four months pregnant hormone bomb.  
  
"Wait a second. All those times you were out late, that was SPIKE??!!!" Dawn yelled suddenly, turning the focus of the conversation (cough, discreet shouting match cough) from Anya and Spike's bizarre relationship back to Buffy. Now two adults wanted to kill the teen.  
  
"Dawn, my sex life is *none* of your business!" Buffy yelled, horrified. Dawn folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, mirroring Buffy's own body language.  
  
"And my love life is free ground? At least I didn't sleep with a vampire, no make that *two* vampires. I mean, Angel was bad, but Spike you don't even like! He was my friend, I'm the only reason you guys even got around the whole demons needing staking part!" she attempted to look pleadingly at her sister, which didn't work very well, because said sister was wondering what could be construed as euthanasia rather than murder.  
  
"Dawn, I agree that your love life is now off limits. But can we *please* concentrate on *this* problem?" she begged.  
  
The teen stuck her nose n the air, and turned away.  
  
Ignoring me, well, one bright spark in this crappy day, Anya decided, as her crackers once again decided to make a bid for freedom.  
  
"Um, I gotta go," she said awkwardly, trying to move towards the bathroom in the back.  
  
"Anya, you are not going anywhere until we've discussed this," Willow said, her voice taking on menacing properties. Right now, the ex demon had peed her off royally: First, she'd taken Xander away from Willow, okay, not in the sense that Willow wanted him, but he had been distracted. She was obsessed with money, and.. she was pregnant to a *vampire*. Willow might be a witch, but that was *too* weird.  
  
"I don't think you oughta stop 'er," Spike said, knowing what was coming next.  
  
"I don't think you *oughta* have any say in this. You did your bit, now bugger off to Blighty," Buffy said sarcastically, imitating Spike's accent. He didn't think very much of it, she'd been around Giles far too long to do a reasonable cockney accent.  
  
"Look, don' let your personal issues get inta this, Slayer. Anya's pregnant, and this would be sunshine we're standin' in. Think about it," he drawled, with a wicked little smirk.  
  
"Oh, God, sorry An,"Buffy gasped, as Anya mumbled incorherently, and rushed to the bathroom, Spike following closely.  
  
The gang stood in shocked silence, as Anya's announcement sank into each one.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Anya bent over the seat, and retched miserably. At this moment in time, she could have gone through the wedding again, but with a herd of wildebeest trampling her dress behind her, rather than throw up her breakfast, lunch and dinner each day.  
  
As tears started up again, a hand proffered a washcloth. Cautiously, she took it.  
  
"Nah, not what I meant," Spike drawled comfortingly. He took it form her again, and carefully wiped her face and mouth. She felt like a child would, being helped by a father. Her tears started up again more vigorously.  
  
Moments later, she felt herself wrapped in Spikes arms, her nose pressed against his shoulder. He held her tightly, her face buried in his leather duster, and in the scents attached. It smelled of cigarettes, and of the graveyard. It smelled of him, and also of vampire. But he was bound up in all those scents. The firm clasp of his arms around her soothed her feelings. She relaxed; curling against him, enjoying the feeling of his strength supporting her, but soon her fears overrode the security.  
  
Spike looked down on the blonde head cradled in his arms. Anya lay there, tight against him, absorbing any comfort he had to offer. He was amazed, she was so relaxed. Buffy had never allowed herself to sleep, or become vulnerable in his presence. Anya hardly knew him, except in the Biblical sense, and he was hardly one for Bibles.  
  
Her voice came, muffled by his shoulder.  
  
"Spike, I'm ..scared,' she admitted, her stomach rolling. "This baby will have a mother who is still learning to cope herself, and I can't take care of myself, let alone a tiny human, that cries, and cries, and can't tell me what's wrong. I..I never had parents, Spike. I never had anyone teach me to read, or tie my shoelaces, or play the Game of Life, except Xander. And I always figured, if I had kids, he'd be there to teach them, too. And now he's not. " She fell silent, exhausted by the secret she had told no one.  
  
He turned her towards him, so he could see into her eyes.  
  
"Firs of all, the Game stinks. No child of mine will learn that game. So that's check one. Second, I've bin around a good long while, pet, I think I can teach a kid to tie shoelaces, or read. But most importantly, Anya, you will be a great mum." He lifted her by the shoulders slightly, so she was staring into his bright blue eyes.  
  
"You haven't been screwed around by parents, like everyone else. And there are books, hundreds of the things, that tell ya how to look after a baby. The whelp may have taught you the rules of life, but I can teach them all again." He smiled, and she smiled too. Maybe it wouldn't be...  
  
She was very sick, all over him. Spike looked away, slightly resigned.  
  
"Oh well, discussion over for today," he said.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the Magic Box front room:  
  
"God, why are they taking so long?" Dawn whinged. Buffy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"They wouldn't..would they?" she demanded. Tara hastily shook her head.  
  
"N.n.no, I..I mean, I don't think so," she said wit a hopeful glance at Willow. Willow patted her hand, encouragingly.  
  
"No," Willow said.  
  
None of them noticed the bell's faint ring as Buffy continued.  
  
"Good, because I would *not* like to tell Giles that Anya is having twins by Spike because they had sex in the Magic Box bathroom while we ate,' Buffy said firmly.  
  
Willow looked at her worriedly. "Buffy, you do know that's not how twins are made right?" she asked, As a familiar voice behind them spat out,  
  
"Anya and *SPIKE*?!"  
  
They all turned and grimaced. Except for Dawn. Her smile broadened. This would be interesting! "Hey Xander!" She chirped.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Anya heard the doorbell chime and sighed. Spike, who was now shirtless, smiled down at her. "The others will take care of it, pet."  
  
She shook her head and finished brushing her teeth. Rinsing and spitting, she looked up at him sadly. "No....It's my job. I make the money. And I will need to make more money to pay for the baby...."  
  
"Luv, no. It doesn't have to be that way." Spike interjected, touching her elbow reassuringly. She seemed to relax slightly at the touch. "I don't want you to work too hard....I mean, I don't want you havin' to worry yourself, got it? S'not healthy for the baby-"  
  
"I have to work Spike." She told him fiercely. "And working is not unhealthy for my child. I read so in a book. And just HOW would you provide me money? You don't have a job. And it's a job that brings in the money."  
  
He smirked. "Pet, I can get a job. A nightshift of some kind. Or I can work here and you can have all the money. I just don't want you to be stressin' yourself, got it?"  
  
Looking up into his bright blue eyes, she sighed in resignation. "Fine. I understand. But I'm still going to work." Pausing, she tried to word her agreement in a way that would make her still appear the boss of the situation. "Although it might be helpful if you were here too...." She admitted, hastily adding, "Just in case it gets very busy."  
  
He grinned at her, knowing that he'd won another argument with her. He was beginning to be quite the professional at it. Better than the whelp had ever been. The thought made him even cockier, although he didn't show it. Best not to tick of the raging bundle of hormones. Nodding, he replied, "Of course."  
  
She smiled and started to move towards the door. "Plus," She began as they left the bathroom and made their way back into the shop, "I'm an ex- vengeance demon. There's not very much that can get me stres-" She stopped dead in her tracks and went white, before falling to the ground.  
  
Spike was there to catch her, and not a second too soon, before he looked around worriedly to see what had caused her to faint. The sight that met him was one EXTREMELY pissed off whelp...er...Xander.  
  
"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed before realising that Anya was still passed out in his arms. Now THAT could not be helping his baby. "Slayer!" He cried in a panic, his eyes darting to find her. "Need help! NOW!"  
  
*~*~*~*~* LA *~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"What about this one?" Cordelia asked, holding up a tiny sailor outfit from her shopping bag. Angel grimaced. She placed her hands on her hips. "What's wrong with it?" She demanded.  
  
The vampire looked around, trying not to meet her gaze.  
  
"ANGEL!" She yelled, "Answer me!"  
  
He looked at her and motioned towards the costume, a look of disgust etched on his handsome face. "My son will not be dressed in....THAT." He spat. "The son of Angelus dressed as a sailor? People like Spike would have a field day!"  
  
"Well Spike will never know, will he?" She shot back at him. "I doubt you've kept in close contact with the vampire.... besides, doesn't he hang with Buffy now?" She couldn't help sounding jealous. Buffy. It ALWAYS went back to her. Oh well, as long as the claws were out she'd use them. "And I know you well enough to know that you're too cowardly to have called the SunnyHell crew up to tell them the good news because you think it'd break the poor slayer's heart."  
  
Angel's demeanour darkened immediately. What had caused THIS attack? And why bring Buffy into it? The only answer he could think of was that she was jealous. And that couldn't be true. That was just his desires seeping through into his thoughts.  
  
"Cordelia...." He muttered, although the logical part of his brain told him that she had a point. Maybe he was afraid of Buffy's reaction. After all, the reason he had left was so that she could have a normal life with a nice husband and a child. But here he was, making babies while she was.... Not. Well, as far as he knew she wasn't. But then, as he had proved, a lot could happen since they had last spoken. "That....That has nothing to do with why I don't want my son dressed as a sailor."  
  
She crossed her arms and was just about to snark out some catty reply, when a blood-curdling scream erupted from the floor above them. Angel shot out of his seat and raced up the stairs, uttering only one word.  
  
"Darla."  
  
A/N; Yes, us back again. If you got this far, you *have* to review. We need the support! 


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